


Swinging Like a Fist Fight

by casual alien (creamsicleSteam)



Series: We Are the Kids You Never Loved [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Backstory, Fake AH Crew, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:46:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5964481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creamsicleSteam/pseuds/casual%20alien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, you're Michael, right? Michael Jones?"</p><p>"Who's asking?"</p><p>"Geoff Ramsey.</p><p>You make it hard not to notice you, blowing things up all the time and now getting into fights at school. He wants to meet you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swinging Like a Fist Fight

Another day in the same city, doing the same things over and over again Michael thinks to himself as he takes his baseball bat and smashes through the window of a Lexus. 

He hears someone yell and looks over to see someone running at him.

 _Oh shit_ , he thinks, _time to go._

Michael ran down some alleys, cursing to himself when he heard the telltale sound of sirens. He tossed his bat down somewhere behind him, the cops already knew who he was, he'd been caught a few times before he got smarter about his getaways.   
The sight of a fence as the end of the next corner didn't even phase him. He quickly hops it, and continuing to run knowing he'd be home free soon. 

At least he thought he would be, until a cop car heads him stops directly in front of the alley he was planning on exiting. 

"Fuck!" Michael exclaims, turning around to run the other way. Unfortunately the cops appeared to be onto him this time, at every exit before he could get there. At the last exit he stops, appearing to accept his fate, before he catches sight of a ladder going up to the roof of a building. There was no decision here, there was no way he was going to spend another night in a cell. 

Making for the ladder as quickly as he could, climbing with determination to not get caught again. He'd been doing well, he hadn't been caught in months, he wasn't going to break that record now. 

Getting to the roof was fairly easy, at least the cops weren't shooting at him. Once on the roof Michael started running again, jumping small alley gaps before skidding to a halt before a fairly large one. 

There was a ladder going down to one side of him, but he didn't want to risk the cops seeing him again. The sirens were faint now but still audible. 

Michael sized up the gap, he could jump that, he'd made bigger jumps than that. Probably. 

He ran back, almost all the way to the opposite edge of the building before sprinting toward the edge. _Here goes nothing,_ he thought. 

There's a horrible moment where he thinks he's not going to make it, that he jumped too soon or not hard enough before he comes down hard on the other building. Taking no time to be relieved he didn't fall three stories to his death, he keeps running until he's safely in his house.

Michael slams the front door behind him when he gets in, finally stopping to breathe. He takes a good few minutes to calm his heart rate before kicking off his shoes and running down to his room, flopping on the bed. 

He knows the cops know where he lives, but they also didn't catch him, and probably wouldn't come looking for him. He calls it a close call and leaves it at that. Besides, He has school in the morning. 

 

Depending on who you asked, Michael and chemistry class either did not get along or got on just fine. He had a tendency to "accidentally" mix the wrong compounds, often leading to small and sometimes colourful little explosions. He thought it was great, something he was good at, blowing things up. He often wondered what would happen if he mixed certain other things to create bigger explosions with actual destructive force but unfortunately he had no idea where to get anything, nor who would sell those things to a teenager. 

Kicking cars and jumping fences would have to do for now. 

 

School was going about as well as it usually did, teachers giving him shit for not doing things and him, in response, continuing to not do things. All and all, it was business as usual.

Until that prick from english class decided to pick a fight with him. Well, he'd been itching for something different. 

He'd never actually been in a fight on school property before but there was always a first time for everything. 

The fight didn't last very long, just long enough to attract a crowd before the teachers stepped in. He managed to get in a few good blows, not without getting some himself though. He could already feel his jaw swelling, and his ribs hurt where he took an elbow to the chest. Of course, because he had his pride to defend, and the other guy wasn't shit, he looked worse than Michael. 

It was a short walk to the principal's office.

The principal was a nice enough lady on most occasions. Unfortunately for Michael, no one had seen the beginning of the fight, and with his record with the law and his explosive tendencies not only in chemistry but also toward a select few idiot teachers, he was facing possible expulsion. The other kid just blamed him for starting it and alright he may have thrown the first punch but _that fucker deserved it alright._

When he was finally called into the principal's office he didn't like a damn thing he heard. 

"You'll have to do forty hours of community service to reflect on why you felt the need to start this fight, or you'll be expelled, the choice is yours." She says. 

"You're not even listening to me! I told you I wasn't even the one who started it! It was that piece of shit out there!" Michael yells, gesturing toward the door leading to the hall. 

"Michael, language. There will be no negotiating this. Mr. Smith has already agreed to his punishment. I suggest you smarten up and do the same. You don't need to waste that pretty face by being a delinquent." Michael bristles, his temper getting shorter and shorter the more she talks. 

"Fuck you. Fuck this school. I'm not doing community service and I'm sure as fuck not staying here!" He shouts, getting up and storming out the door. He heads for his locker before leaving to grab his things. 

"Hey, you're Michael, right? Michael Jones?" Michael doesn't pause, stuffing things into his bookbag from his locker.

"Who's asking?" He replies.

"Geoff Ramsey." That gets Michael's attention. He's heard things about the man. He knows he's not that high up on the food chain yet but he seems to be climbing the ladder fast. He's already got a small crew working for him and his right hand, and he comes from the RT Crew. This may be the change Michael's been waiting for. 

"I'm listening." They boy flashes him a grin. 

"I'm Kdin. I've told Ramsey about you before, you make it hard not to notice you, blowing things up all the time and now getting into fights at school. He wants to meet you. See if you'd be a good addition to the crew. Come to this address tonight at nine. Don't be late." Kdin hands him a card with an address scribbled on it, smiling at him before walking away. 

Weird kid. Well, whatever. This could be a setup for something stupid or Geoff Ramsey actually wants to meet him. He'd rather not take the risk of assuming its a dumb setup, he can take care of himself well enough anyway. If he actually has a chance to do the things he's already been doing for money there's no way he's passing it up. 

 

When he gets to the location of the card it's a warehouse. Old and abandoned looking. Red flags are up all over his mind but he enters the site anyway. He was already here, wasn't he? No point turning back now. 

He follows the hallway from the door into a large open room. The storage area, he'd say, if the loads of crates and boxes were any indication. He looks around, not quite sure what he wants to find but clearly not finding it. 

"Hey kid!" Michael nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" He shouts, quickly looking to find the source of the voice. He finds the person standing near an open door, he doesn't think it's the same one he came from but honestly he has no idea. 

"Are you Michael Jones?" The guy asks. 

"Depends. Who the fuck are you?" Is Michael's less than advisable reply. He hasn't moved from his position since spotting the man, trying to figure out if he could take him or if he was better off running if this went south. Guy was huge and sporting an impressive beard. 

"I'm Jack Pattillo, Geoff Ramsey's right hand. Are you Michael Jones?" Holy shit, this wasn't looking like a setup after all. 

"Yeah. I am." Michael replies. 

"This way," Jack waves him over, "We've been waiting for you."

Jack leads him to an office looking room and sitting at the desk is none other than Geoff Ramsey, recognizable from his mugshots on tv after... Breaking Jack Pattillo out of custody.

Holy shit. This was the real deal. 

"So, Michael Jones, we're looking for a demolitions expert. Think you're up for the challenge?" Geoff asks him.

"Fucking 'course." Michael's grin could rival the devils.

And this is how Michael jones got kicked out of high school and joined the Fake AH Crew.


End file.
